


Pizza Night

by dragon_temeraire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Alive Hale Family, College Student Stiles, Delivery Person Stiles Stilinski, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 14:10:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7577008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_temeraire/pseuds/dragon_temeraire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek jokingly makes a special request on his pizza order form.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pizza Night

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the fifth prompt on [ this post](http://vaultboyahegao.tumblr.com/post/139941697703/assorted-weirdly-specific-aus).

He’s definitely due for a pizza night, Derek decides. It’s been a long week, and he absolutely deserves the meatiest, cheesiest pizza money can buy.

He likes to order from the local place downtown, because not only do they use fresh ingredients, they’re generous with the toppings. They’ve also always been consistently friendly with speedy service, which Derek is about. He’s _really_ hungry.

They’ve also just recently started allowing online ordering, which makes things even easier. He plugs in his usual choice of Meatlovers, hesitates over whether to add breadsticks, then decides _why not?_

He’s just about to hit the submit button when the little ‘leave a special request’ box catches his eye. He’s in a whimsical mood. It’s Friday, he’s already relaxed and he has the whole weekend off to just chill. So he ends up typing the first thing that comes to mind.

_Send your cutest delivery boy._

He hits submit before he can regret his decision.

*

Sure enough, it’s not long before there’s a knock at his door.

_Wow_ , he thinks when he opens it. _They really outdid themselves._ Because the delivery guy is totally gorgous, and is giving him a shy, nervous smile.

“Hi,” Derek says, trying not to sound half-smitten.

“Hi,” the guy says awkwardly. “I’m, uh, I’m sorry about your special request, but I was the only one available to take your delivery,” he says in a rush.

It takes Derek a moment to process what he’s said, and then he can’t believe it. “You definitely got my request right,” he blurts, then immediately wants to punch himself in the face. The delivery guy is going to think he’s a fucking weirdo.

“Oh! Um, good,” he says, giving Derek another smile. “Here’s your pizza, I just need you to sign the credit card receipt,” he says, handing them both to Derek.

“Just a second, okay?” Derek says, leaving the door ajar as he sets his pizza on the kitchen table. That’s when he takes a good look at the receipt. It has his special request circled at the bottom, and has _Stiles_ written in big letters underneath. That must be the name of the delivery guy.

In tiny letters under that, it says _Maybe he’ll be cute. Good luck!_ and Derek laughs. He signs, then flips the receipt over, hesitating.

“Everything okay?” Stiles asks when Derek walks back. “I heard you laughing,” he says, fingers pulling nervously at the hem of his uniform shirt.

“Did you actually read this receipt?” Derek asks, grinning.

“Well, just the customer address,” Stiles says, giving him an odd look. “And Erica told me about your special instructions.”

“Here,” Derek says. “Take a look.”

He knows the moment Stiles gets to the little message under his name, because his cheeks flush pink. “Um, sorry about that,” he says. “Erica’s been trying to find me a date.”

“I don’t mind,” Derek says casually, leaning up against the doorframe. “Turn it over.”

Stiles flips the receipt, and Derek watches his eyes trace over his name and number several times before he seems to register what they are. He looks up at Derek, grinning. “I thought—” he starts, but he’s interrupted by his phone.

He pulls it out and taps a few buttons. “Shit, that’s my boss, Erica. She said—” he cuts himself off again. “Actually, I’m not going to tell you what she said. I’ve got to get back, though.” He waves the receipt. “Do you mind if I text you? We can’t make personal phone calls at work unless it’s an emergency.”

“Please do,” Derek says, trying not to laugh at the careful way Stiles tucks the paper into his pocket.

Stiles’ phone goes off again. “I gotta go. But I’ll text you soon. Bye, Derek!” Stiles calls as he walks back to his car.

Derek finds his heart speeding up at the sound of his name from Stiles’ lips.

*

He’s finished his pizza and contemplating the Netflix options when his phone buzzes.

_Hey, it’s Stiles _,__ the message reads _ _._ So what do you usually do after Friday night pizza?_

_I usually go for ice cream_ , Derek sends back.

_That sounds amazing_ , he gets in reply.

Derek considers his answer. _You’re welcome to join me_ , he sends.

_Ooh, I’d love to_ , he gets back quickly. _But I don’t get off work for another hour. Is that too late?_

_No, that sounds perfect. Just text me when you’re done, and we can meet at Roscoe’s Dairy Bar_ , Derek texts back.

_Awesome!_ Stiles sends. _I’m looking forward to it!_

Me too, Derek thinks. Me too.

__*_ _

“I love this place so much,” Stiles says as he pulls open the door. “I come here sometimes after my shifts at Beacon Pizza.”

“I’m surprised I haven’t seen you before, then,” Derek says. “I’m addicted to their milkshakes.”

Stiles laughs. “They are good, aren’t they?”

He drags Derek up to the counter and proceeds to order a truly enormous amount of ice cream, insisting he’ll eat it all. When Derek expresses his disbelief, Stiles just says, “Wait and see.” Derek’s order is much more reasonable, just a small chocolate shake and two scoops of cookie dough ice cream.

They sit at one of the little chrome tables, and Stiles talks about the woes of being a delivery boy while also being a full-time student. Derek tells Stiles about the woes of working in a family-owned business, alongside his two sisters. “They’re a menace,” he says, laughing.

“I think that’s what sisters are there for,” Stiles says, grinning. “To keep you on your toes. I don’t have siblings, but my best friend Scott is like that. He thinks his meddling is for my own good.”

Stiles really does eat all of his ice cream, and Derek is suitably impressed.

They stay there talking so long, the staff at Roscoe’s actually has to kick them out at closing time. “Oops,” Stiles says to the girl behind the counter. “Sorry!”

She gives him a friendly wave goodbye, laughing. “I understand,” she says.

Stiles walks him out to the parking lot and kisses him up against the Camaro, fulfilling one of Derek’s longtime fantasies.

Stiles pulls away, cheeks flushed, and asks Derek for a second date.

Derek doesn’t hesitate to say yes.

Stiles kisses him again, then reluctantly says he has to get home.

After Stiles drives away in his old blue jeep, Derek sits in his car for a moment, unable to stop the ridiculous smile spreading across his face.

Best pizza night _ever_.


End file.
